


We May Be The First To Fall

by clotpolesonly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Derek and Braeden are not together, F/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/pseuds/clotpolesonly
Summary: Derek doesn’t scream when he goes down, but somehow the soft, choked off noise of pain is worse.Before the engine is even off, Allison is throwing herself out of the cab. She doesn’t even think to grab her crossbow because Derek is down and the berserker is still slashing at him and nothing matters but getting to his side.





	We May Be The First To Fall

**Author's Note:**

> spontaneous Dallison fic ftw!! 
> 
> i was not intending to write this, haha, but i regret nothing. i still plan (very optimistically, in the best of all possible worlds) to rewrite all of season 4 with Allison alive and largely but not completely taking Braeden's place, but that's a big undertaking that i have yet to start. so here's a tidbit to hold myself over XD

Derek doesn’t scream when he goes down, but somehow the soft, choked off noise of pain is worse.

Before the engine is even off, Allison is throwing herself out of the cab. She doesn’t even think to grab her crossbow because Derek is _ down _ and the berserker is still slashing at him and nothing matters but getting to his side.

Before she can, Braeden’s shotgun goes off, once, twice, a dozen times. The berserker stumbles back, listing one way and then the other before it finally lumbers into a retreat, but all Allison can see is the black shadow of the blood spreading across Derek’s torn shirt.

“Oh god,” she says, voice as unsteady as her legs. “Derek.”

Derek tries to hoist himself upright. “I’m fine. I swear, I—”

His arms give out and he falls against the rock at his back, a grimace twisting his face. Braeden rushes forward to help steady him. Her shoulder brushes Allison’s, and Allison knows she should move, should _ help, _ should do anything but stand there and be useless, but every inch of her feels ice cold and frozen in place when there’s blood on Derek’s lips.

The others have spilled out of the trucks now, gathering at Allison’s back with the tense hush of people who know what’s happening and don’t want to admit it, but Derek’s eyes, when he forces them open, still find hers.

“Allison,” he pants. “You have to go, they need you in there.”

She shakes her head. He’s right, of course; Scott is in danger and he needs all of them at their best if he’s going to come out the other side of this alive. But Derek’s not at his best now. He’s gasping and clutching at Braeden’s hand with bloody fingers and staring at Allison with wet eyes that say more plainly than words ever could that this isn’t something he’s going to heal from.

“No,” Allison says. “I can’t go anywhere without you.”

_ Not if I have to face Kate alone. Not if this is the last time I’ll see you. _

Derek’s head falls back, eyes closing for a long, excruciating moment. It seems to take a lot of effort for him to open them again, and Allison still can’t move. She’s sure that, if she tries, she’ll shake apart completely, and for once, she wishes her mother was there to shout at her, to get her moving, to _ force _her to be strong even when she feels weak.

But her mother would never have approved of this moment of weakness anyway, not over someone like Derek. Her mother would be shouting at her to leave Derek behind, pick up her crossbow, and _ fight _ like the warrior that she’s meant to be. That she’s worked so hard to become.

She’s never felt more like a warrior than when she was fighting with Derek at her back. Maybe that’s why all the fight’s gone out of her now.

When Derek forces out a hoarse, “_Go_,” her resolve cracks that much more. All she can do is shake her head again. All of her is shaking, she realizes when Stiles’ grips her shoulder, trying to lend her his strength even though his face is grim and pale too.

“Help the others,” Derek tells her, as firmly as he can manage. “Save Scott. Just—”

He stops, swallowing down another of those pained sounds that tear at Allison’s chest as if _ she _ were the one being mauled. 

“Just be careful,” he says finally. “Please. For me.”

It’s the closest either of them has ever come to a declaration. They’ve danced around this for so long and, god, they’ve been _ so stupid. _ After everything they’ve been through, everyone they’ve lost, they should have known they would end up here eventually. They should have said it while they had the time.

She should have said it before it was too late.

Now Derek is coughing, lips frothing red, and Stiles and the others are pulling away, back toward the entrance to La Iglesia where Scott is waiting for their help, and she’s out of time.

Malia shoves her crossbow into her arms. Numb and clumsy, Allison almost drops it.

“Come on,” Malia says with one last backward glance. “There’s nothing you can do here. Let’s go.”

She disappears into the church. Stiles follows her in, Liam at their heels. Peter lingers for a moment longer, looking at his nephew with something like regret on his face, but before long even he has turned away. Allison is left alone to watch as Braeden puts a gun in Derek’s blood-slick hand and takes up a defensive position with one of her own.

Allison might have stayed there all night, stuck in place, if not for the screams. Cries ring out from behind her, echoing through the ancient stone structure, the cries of friends who need her help.

Her heart drops and her stomach turns over, but her feet unstick. Her mother’s voice whispers in her ear, drowning out all the words that hang on the tip of her tongue as she stumbles back a step, then two. Derek watches her go, face set. There’s fear there, more than Allison’s ever seen, but he doesn’t ask her to stay. He would never, not when Malia was right.

There’s nothing Allison can do for him, not now. But she can still help the pack.

It feels like a wound all its own to tear her eyes away from his. She does it anyway. Her heart pounds in her ears and her heavy footfalls echo in the close tunnels, but neither is quite enough to drown out the sound of a howl in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> [also on tumblr, with GIFSET!](https://clotpolesonly.tumblr.com/post/187380460741/derek-doesnt-scream-when-he-goes-down-but)


End file.
